Lord Voldemort and the Trip to the Past
by Priya Ashok
Summary: Lord Voldemort is given a second chance by the Fates. Please Read and Review.


The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

 _ **Voldemort and the Trip to the Past**_

So Voldemort was hit by his own killing curse _. 'Avada Kedavra'_ he cried while that stupid boy said _'Expelliarmus!'_ _'Expelliarmus!'_ he snorted before his eyes widened as his curse rebounded on him and hit him flat on his chest. WHAM! DAMMIT NOT AGAIN! Was all he had time to think before he exploded. Or rather his small amount of soul exploded and his snakelike body fell old and battered on the floor of the Great Hall.

Voldemort blinked his eyes and frowned as he woke up and looked around. The bloody brat who lived. He could not believe that Harry Potter had done him in again and _by his own_ curse. He really had to stop using the _Avada_ on the brat. Merlin why couldn't he learn from the first time and use a _Diffindo_ or a _Reducto_? His thoughts stopped there as he gaped at what he was seeing. His old room at Riddle Hall. _He was somehow transported to his old room at Riddle Hall_. He frowned and rather absently waved his hand to see the date.

2th of January 1979 shimmered in the air.

"What the hell?!" he hissed angrily as he took his wand from the bedside table and waved once again. The same date shimmered in front of him once more. Voldemort took a deep breath as he tried to analyse what happened. He had been killed a total of two times; both curses rebounding on him from Potter and once he had lost his body for 13 years. What did the brat have that he could do this; go on killing him? But in that second he realized that all that was irrelevant; h _e had been given another chance._ He could not believe it. People talked as if he was evil; but the Fates clearly had not agreed. They knew that he was a good man. Voldemort stopped his thinking for a second. Perhaps he was not totally honest with himself.

Right. So he was not all good. He could concede that. He did do what could be called questionable acts that could come under evil actions. He brushed his hand aside impatiently, as if brushing his thoughts aside for contemplating about the second future he had been given.

He was lost in thought for the longest time before a truly evil smirk graced his face.

He got up gracefully and walked out. He called his Death Eaters to his side and stared at them. He asked them to remove their masks. Severus Snape was standing somewhere in the middle of the circle. A second later he was sprawled out surprise etched permanently on his face. The other Death Eaters shifted restlessly and fearfully each wondering if they were next.

"This is what happens to traitors!" Voldemort said shortly. The Death Eaters shifted even more, fearful as they looked at each other in suspicion.

Voldemort did not give them time. He dismissed them and got to work. He tracked down Trelawney and killed her. He placed the _Imperius_ on Peter and ordered him to kill the Order when the whole Order was present. Peter Pettigrew placed an exploding hex on himself and on objects placed all around the room and exploded in the midst of the Order. The next day The Daily Prophet carried a tragic story of the demise of some of the greatest witches and wizards of Britain including Albus Dumbledore, James Potter (thus ending the Potter line), Frank Longbottom (thus ending the Longbottom line), Sirius Black, Alastor Moody, Benjy Fenwick, and Dorothy Meadows among others.

The Wizarding World realised one more thing that day. Without Dumbledore, they had all but fallen into the clutches of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Docilely they fell into line as Voldemort took over magical Britain; stopped the Muggleborns from becoming a part of the Wizarding world, by binding their magic and obliviating them the moment their names appeared in the Magical Book of Names. Hermione Granger lived her life without realising she could have been a brilliant witch.

The existing half-bloods were treated as second class citizens slowly filling up the less desirable jobs in the Wizarding World, which was ruled by Lord Voldemort and a Pureblood elite. Squibs were killed the moment they were born if their names did not appear in the Magical Book of Names. For that to happen, all magical people were required to register with the Ministry, the moment they were pregnant.

Dark Arts were made legal and so was Muggle hunting as a past time. The only requirement for the latter was that a magical witch or wizard not be caught doing such muggle baiting and hunting. It was also perfectly legal to own Muggles as slaves for all and any purpose. Voldemort continued to rule and rule and rule until inbreeding started destroying Magical Britain.

The ICW in the meantime had been slowly preparing to destroy Voldemort and they made their move when the Purebloods starting showing weak magical strength due to inbreeding. They captured the Ministry, caught Voldemort, interrogated him and destroyed his Horcruxes and then Voldemort himself.

By then it was nearly two hundred years after Voldemort had returned to the past. The ICW then started the slow business of unbinding the magic from Muggleborns and integrating them into the Magical World. They brought in strict laws to protect Muggleborns, Half-bloods and magical creatures.

It took an equally long time and names like Potter, Bones, Vance, Dumbledore, Snape, Moody, Longbottom, Prewett and others were lost because of Voldemort, while names like Malfoy, Weasley, Patil, Parkinson, and others were also lost due to the inbreeding and lack of fresh blood into their families.

The rebuilt magical world was completely new with new laws that brought them closer to the Muggle world.

Voldemort died when he was killed by an ICW Auror and his soul merged with the other bits. He became whole in a long, long time and went to his afterlife, smirking at what he perceived to be his achievements and cursing the ICW for their success in getting rid of him, even if it took them a long, long time.

He got off the train at a place that looked remarkably similar to Hogsmeade and he looked around in interest wondering whether he could attempt to rule here as well.

That was when he was hit by a _Furnunculus_ Spell, the first of many such spells to hit him, including the _Avada Kedavra_ and he knew no more.

"Master!" the well-known voice of Bellatrix cried weakly to him, when he woke up. Before he could respond, he found himself in chains and Great Merlin! What was happening here; he was being dipped in something. Arghhhhh! He screamed as he realised that he was being dipped in boiling oil. Sweet Mordred! It was hot and it was painful; no sooner than that thought came to him than he screamed again and again in agony, ignoring the pathetic screams of his Death Eater followers in nearby cauldrons.

At long last he was given a respite and he found himself in magic inhibiting braces and chains to stop his physical and magical movement. His body had miraculously healed. The next moment he breathed deeply the cold air and he found himself near a huge lake. It took him some time but he saw that he was on the banks of the large lake just outside of Hogsmeade on a side that not many people frequented. He himself had used it for nefarious purposes in his day.

"Master!" a few voices cried out and Voldemort slowly turned his head, wincing at the movement. It really hurt being boiled in oil. Dammit it hurt. He turned to see his Death Eaters; the most eager and the most violent of them in various states of pain. He shuddered and winced again at the pain that caused him, but he had to ask.

"Wha ... Wha …," his voice would not work. It was probably because of all the screaming he had done today. "What?" he finally whispered. "Who is doing this?"

"Ah that would be us!" said a clear voice and Voldemort turned to the source of that voice. It was vaguely familiar. He gaped. It was Albus Dumbledore and Sweet Merlin! He was followed by the Order and others behind them. Many, many people. People he had killed or directly or indirectly harmed in some way, he thought vaguely through the haze of pain.

Was that James Potter? Morgana! He was; and who was that with him with messy black hair and green eyes? Was it, could it be Potter? Harry Potter? What was happening here?

Harry Potter cast a bone crushing curse casually at a small snivelling wizard, Pettigrew, Voldemort realised as he squeaked in that irritating way of his.

"Well Voldy you know my son Harry?" James asked. Voldemort did not know whether that was a trick question or not. Was he to know whether these people knew about his trip to the past? He decided the best thing to do was remain silent and really even if he did speak, providing his vocal cords did not fail him, who could hear him when Wormtail was screaming in such agony? He was sure that having all your bones crushed was not as bad as being boiled in oil.

"The Fates you see," Albus Dumbledore said in that irritating manner of his, "merged both the timelines into one. So the many people you knew and harmed in the old timeline before you were sent to the past are also here; those people like Harry who were not born in this timeline, are here because they were in the previous timeline."

Voldemort felt his head ache. Was it not enough to be boiled in oil? He also had to listen to Albus Dumbledore speak?! He glared weakly at Dumbledore. He wanted to say many things but his voice and strength would not cooperate.

Dumbledore smiled. Voldemort gasped because it was such a vindictive smile on such a benign looking face.

"You see Tom," Voldemort scowled; he really hated that name. Dumbledore continued seemingly unaware of this, "when you died the two timelines merged and the memories of those who lived in the two timelines merged, while those who were never born in this timeline came into existence here. All of them want your blood. And the Fates have been kind enough to indulge us in agreeing with our request."

Voldemort felt a growing horror. He really had to ask, since his Death Eaters were whimpering. Apparently they knew more than he did. "What request?" he whispered. His voice was still hurting.

Dumbledore smiled that cruel smile again. "The Fates felt that you did not make good use of the second chance you had been given." he said. Voldemort agreed with him. He should have been more cautious and aware of the ICW's plans and he should have tried to take over Magical Europe in the early days of his reign, when he had his strong followers. Thanks to the Mudbloods, the Purebloods' magical strength started declining (though he still did not know how; he refused to believe inbreeding could cause weakness; _he_ was strong and he knew the Gaunts often married their own siblings. He refused to believe that his father's Muggle blood could in any way influence his magical strength). He did try to siphon off the magic of young Mudblood girls and boys to give to the Purebloods, but that sadly did not work. All that happened was the death of the Purebloods alongside the dirty Mudbloods.

"So they waited for you to come here, before they merged the two timelines, making Magicals like Harry and Hermione and Colin Creevey appear here with full knowledge of their magical skills and more importantly knowledge of what happened in the last timeline as did all of us who died in this timeline by your hand."

Voldemort shrugged carefully. F_ that still hurt. How long did the hurt last anyway? His eyes widened when he saw who stepped forward. That boy was a Death Eater. So what if he turned traitor; he still took the Mark. The Fates were unfair.

The boy who looked all grown up now smirked. "Lord Voldemort." He said delicately in an insulting manner. How could someone inject so much venom into two words? Snape had managed it. Voldemort felt a little admiration creep up upon him in spite of himself. He could have made a fine Death Eater if only he was not such a Mudblood lover.

"What sort of a dunderhead name was that?" he asked conversationally, his arm linked with his best friend, even as that Blood Traitor Black flicked his wand and cast an organ burning spell on Bellatrix, Pettigrew and Barty Jr. their screams were getting on his nerves already. How they yelled. Merlin, he could not help feel ashamed that his followers had no control. But that Half-blood traitor was talking and he turned his attention to Snape.

"_ so you see Voldemort," again that supreme sarcasm in his voice. Voldemort could not help envy that ability. "The Fates have given all of us here," Voldemort looked around; 'all of us' were the Order members and most of the Magical people and beings he had killed on his way to the top, "permission to punish you and your followers for every transgression you made against Magic by harming others. Since Muggles are not allowed here on this plane, the Fates had asked us to punish you and your followers on their behalf as well."

"You traitor. You were a Death Eater as well. Don't forget it. You have my Mark."

"Indeed! My greatest mistake and my greatest shame." he said quietly.

"He more than made amends Voldemort. Don't you dare compare him to you and your followers." The red haired green eyed Mudblood told him hotly. And then to his horror she flicked her wand at him. The next few minutes were filled with agony and Voldemort felt angry at the person who was screaming near his ears. It was not until the pain stopped that he realised he was screaming and the Mudblood had cast a powerful _Cruciatus_ on him. He drew huge breaths to calm himself down. The _Cruciatus_ was painful. He never realised how painful it was. He lay panting on the ground, deciding not to say anything to anger her anymore.

It was some more time later that Voldemort realised what Snape had told him. At that time he was outraged that a Death Eater was on the other side, but now he concentrated on what Snape said. All of them to punish him and his followers? _For every transgression?_ His mind boggled at the amount of punishment he would take and thought back to the morning where he had been being boiled in oil and he did the only thing he could. He fainted.

He woke up to jeering laughter and trembled.

"How the mighty have fallen eh?" Boomed a loud voice and Hagrid stood in front of Voldemort with a huge club. Voldemort squealed in terror. He finally understood Pettigrew's snivelling attitude in the presence of anyone mightier than him.

Hagrid bent down and Voldemort whimpered. To Voldemort's surprise he gently straightened his legs, looked at them for a minute. Voldemort breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe, just maybe he would be let off by this gentle giant. Voldemort thought back to how he had killed Hagrid. He had McNair hack off his limbs one by one and watched him bleed to death laughing all the while. He cringed at the memory and looked pleadingly at the half giant.

Hagrid smiled and just when Voldemort thought he would escape punishment, Hagrid bought his huge club on his knees, shattering them. Voldemort gave a heart rending scream as his vision wavered between consciousness and unconsciousness. "Sorry You-Know-Who," W _hat?!_ This filthy Half-breed kills my knees and calls me You-Know-Who? What was wrong with him, ran through Voldemort's mind in a detached manner, even as he was screaming in agony. Really who knew shattered knees could hurt so much.

"I have to punish you, because you really hurt the Centaurs and Unicorns in the Forest." Voldemort felt that was really unfair. He was going to be punished for killing animals now? Then would he be punished for killing chickens and pigs and cows because he liked his steaks and chicken and bacon? But he did not dare ask anything. Just in case they decided they could punish him for not being a vegetarian.

Dumbledore stepped forward. "Rest now Voldemort we are not as cruel as you and your followers were. We will allow you to rest every evening and start the punishments after breakfast in the morning. From breakfast until dinner you and your followers will be punished; breakfast until lunch, our lunch I mean, you'll not have any lunch, it's always the boiling oil and from lunch until dinner anyone who is free will come here and punish all of you, as your followers who have been here for some time will tell you, and from dinner," he took out that ridiculous looking watch and peered at it, "we will leave you in peace to contemplate your mistakes. It's dinner time now, so, good day!" as one they all turned to leave.

"Wait!" he called out weakly. Dumbledore stopped and looked back at him inquiringly. "Yes?" he asked politely and Voldemort felt like hurting him, and grit his teeth at his helplessness.

"For how long …" he started, before his voice gave out.

Dumbledore, was fortunately clever. "For how long the punishments last?" he asked and Voldemort nodded his head quickly, not minding the pain. It was worth the pain to know this.

"Well we are still in the process of computing all your mistakes Tom. So far it looks like you and your followers will be here for a couple of millennia, but I'll let you know the exact …"Voldemort did not hear the rest. His mind had stopped in utter horror and terror at the words a couple of millennia and he had fainted once more.

Dumbledore stopped speaking when he realised Voldemort had fainted and walked away with a spring in his steps. He was sure Voldemort would come to repent each and every harmful act by the time they were done with him and his followers.

When Voldemort woke up, he realised his punishments would have been much shorter had he not returned to the past. He cursed the Fates for giving him a second chance as he was transported to the boiling room.

 _ **The End**_


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